Ready
by The Lady Fair
Summary: After leaving her husband at home as she does every year, Hermione plays matchmaker across house lines at the Ministry's Christmas Ball. HG/SS. Mild DM/LL & HP/PP and mentions of GW/BZ. EWE. One-shot.


**.**

 **Ready**

 **.**

Hermione could feel her husband's eyes on her as she stepped into the silky bronze dress and slipped it up over her body. Sliding the wand-thin straps over her shoulders, she looked over at him.

"Zipper?"

As he set the book aside and unfolded his body from the reading chair in the corner of the room, Hermione pulled her hair away from the split fabric. Long fingers ghosted over her exposed spine and she sighed as he placed a warm kiss at the base of her neck. The zipper _schlicked_ up, drawing the bronze fabric tight against her breast before it spilled away in a gentle a-line that concealed most of her curves.

"I wish you would come." The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them and she froze as his fingers maneuvered the delicate clasp at the top of the zipper and brushed her hair back over it.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I know you hate these things."

"Hmmm," he agreed in his baritone hum, his hands moving to her shoulders. "But I love when you come home from them."

Hermione chuckled appreciatively and pulled away. The combs on her vanity–a five-year anniversary gift–found their way into her curls and she dug a simple brown topaz pendant out of the drawers to slip around her neck. The teardrop gem settled in the hint of cleavage just above the cowl neckline of the dress.

Turning, she looked at the man she loved. "How do I look?"

He looked up from his book, dark eyes sweeping over her body in a way that still made her knees go weak. Arching one black eyebrow, he all but smirked at her.

"Hurry home."

Hermione's stomach twisted deliciously at the promise in those words. If she hadn't sent her RSVP in weeks ago, she would have happily skipped the ball and let her husband peel her dress back off her. Quick steps carried her across the room and she slipped into the nude sandals beside the chair, pressing a chaste kiss against her husband's lips before snagging her jeweled purse off the back of the chair.

"I'll be back before ten."

He caught her hand as she turned away.

"Severus?" she asked.

He brushed his fingers over her wedding ring and looked up at her through half-hooded eyes. "Have fun."

She smiled at him. "Of course."

* * *

Hermione _was_ having fun. Three hours into the annual Ministry Christmas Ball and she'd danced with more than a dozen friends and acquaintances and enjoyed thoroughly engrossing conversations with emissaries from no less than four other ministries. Currently she was being led around the ballroom by a very dashing Draco Malfoy, discussing the recent increase in Valerian prices as the music transitioned from a quick two-step into a simple waltz. As Draco's hand slipped lower on her back, Hermione raised an eyebrow in her best imitation of her husband.

"Relax, Granger," Draco said, guiding her effortlessly across the floor. "Luna's watching."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione allowed him to dip her during a pause in the music. When he pulled her back up, holding her a little more closely than before, Hermione pursed her lips.

"You could just ask her to dance instead of trying to make her jealous, you know."

His chuckle was suspiciously close to her ear. "Where's the fun in that?"

With a bruising grip on his arm, Hermione managed to put a little extra distance between herself and her husband's Godson. "The fun would be in getting to dance with a woman you actually like instead of babysitting me for Severus."

Draco's scowl told her she'd hit the nail on the head and, with a tinkling laugh, Hermione slipped her hand into his and dragged him off the dance floor. She headed straight for the corner where Luna was. Her old friend looked suspiciously like she was holding a conversation with a potted plant and Hermione cleared her throat and called out to her as Draco tried to jerk away.

"Oh, Luna, how are you?"

Luna turned her dazzling smile on Hermione, her expression spacey, and returned the greeting. "Lovely. I've been having a wonderful conversation with this nest of Invisible Rumplecorks."

"Right," Hermione said, clearing her throat again and yanking Draco–who had been trying to hide behind her much shorter frame–next to her. "I was wondering if you'd be willing to take Draco off my hands for me?"

"Granger," Draco hissed in warning.

But it was too late. As soon as Luna turned her eyes on Draco, Hermione knew he was a goner. His scowl turned into a bemused grin as Luna slipped her dainty hand in his.

"I'm glad to help," Luna said. "I'm sure it would have taken Draco another year to ask me himself."

While Draco spluttered his disagreement, Hermione waved them away. She leaned against the wall next to the potted plant and crossed her arms over her chest, watching delighted as Luna slipped into Draco's perfect waltzing form and started what she was certain was a nonsensical conversation with the charmed Slytherin.

"Invisible Rumplecorks, huh?" she said to the plant.

Harry's voice answered her from somewhere to her right, away from the plant. "Hey, Mione."

"Do you want to tell me why you're hiding over here in your invisibility cloak instead of chasing Blaise away from your ex-girlfriend?" Hermione asked, appearing for all the world as though she was inspecting her non-existent manicure.

"The Slytherins are bloody taking over," Harry responded. "First Blaise and Gin and now Draco and Luna… I don't want to chase them away, just wanna make sure they treat our girls right. At least _you_ haven't succumbed to their sneaky charm."

Images of her succumbing to Severus only hours before filtered through her mind and Hermione kept her face casual as her heart raced. Closing her eyes and counting to ten, she was fairly certain she managed to keep from blushing as she made a non-commital noise the back of her throat. Severus was a very private person and outside the Malfoys and the Minister of Magic, no one knew they were married. Sometimes she even preferred it that way.

Tonight was not one of those times.

"You could reciprocate, you know," she said when she knew her voice wouldn't betray her.

"Whadaya mean?"

Gesturing at the lone figure of Pansy Parkinson, who Hermione had to admit looked quite stunning in her purple gown, Hermione answered him. "If the Slytherins are willing to cross house lines, perhaps you should do the same. Get the snakes back by stealing one of their own."

Even though she couldn't see him, Hermione could practically hear Harry working her words out. Silently she asked Severus for forgiveness for her crass address of his former house. Not that he hadn't said anything twice as bad about Gryffindor, but Hermione liked to think their marriage had tempered the fierce house rivalry. Which may or may not have played a part in her matchmaking efforts.

"She looks quite lovely tonight, don't you think?" Hermione asked when she thought he'd had enough time to work it out.

Silence greeted her words.

"Harry?"

He was gone. Hermione glanced across the room in time to see Harry slip the cloak off and tuck it into one of the pockets of his dress robes before approaching Pansy from behind. She smirked as Harry straightened his bowtie and tapped Pansy's shoulder. Even from across the ballroom, Hermione could see Pansy's blush as she accepted Harry's arm. The Boy Who Lived escorted her onto the dancefloor and Hermione sighed happily.

"May I have this dance?"

Jumping, Hermione glanced at the man obscured by shadows, his dark frock coat as severe as the scowl on his face. He held one pale hand palm up between them, the offer as shocking as his presence. Hermione beamed.

"You came!"

"It's half ten already," he answered logically.

The corner of his mouth twitched and she dropped her hand into his, allowing him to pull her closer as the music shifted to a slower waltz that she _knew_ was entirely his doing. She laid her cheek against his chest, uncaring of social convention or proper form as they swayed together in the darkened alcove where no one would see them.

"Still," she murmured against his shirt. "Thank you."

"No," he said seriously, steering her across the floor effortlessly. "Thank you."

"For what?" she asked, her eyes drifting closed as he spun her around.

"For lying to your friends," he said, placing a kiss on top of her head.

"And for seven years together," he continued, lifting her chin to kiss her forehead.

Hermione sighed as he continued to lead their steps.

"And for waiting until I was ready," he finished, planting a final, sweet kiss against her lips.

"Ready for what?"

But a collective gasp reached her ears before his answer did and Hermione's eyes popped open. They were in the middle of the dancefloor and every eye in the room was trained on them, looks ranging from shock to abject horror on hundreds of faces as Severus smirked and lowered his head towards hers again.

"To tell the world I love you," he breathed across her lips before settling into a kiss that turned her knees to jelly.

"Mmmmm," she agreed.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading.**_

 _ **Blessings.**_

 _ **6/10/18 - For anyone who cares, the guest review threatening to ban me is from a troll who is using Hortensia's name and the TAPIR forum as s/he sweeps across fanfiction trying to make people cry. In reality it's the funniest review I've ever received and I plan on keeping it up for posterity. Surely being the target of a troll means I actually have something worth targeting? And, in that way, the review is an extremely backhanded compliment utterly suiting Severus Snape himself. Although Snape wouldn't hide behind false names... git's honour and all that. Let's wish the trollibite a good day. ;)**_


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